


loving is easy, you had me fucked up

by the north remembers (jaburr)



Category: A Song of Ice and Fire - George R. R. Martin, Game of Thrones (TV)
Genre: Alternate Universe, Jon’s a Stark, M/M, Robb is not related to Jon, The Stark family is quite the pack
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-06-03
Updated: 2019-06-03
Packaged: 2020-04-07 01:41:53
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 10,708
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/19074907
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/jaburr/pseuds/the%20north%20remembers
Summary: Jon really shouldn’t be imagining Sansa’s friend from college underneath him. At family dinner, no less.





	loving is easy, you had me fucked up

**Author's Note:**

> well, this has been quite a work in progress over the past month? hope you all like it. it’s very long but worth it! title is from the Rex Orange County song ‘Loving is Easy’

“Arya, set an extra place at the table please, would you?” Jon can hear Catelyn calling for her youngest daughter through the open window. He takes one last drag of his cigarette before stubbing it out on the wood railing encircling the back porch, sneaking back inside to wash his hands. 

 

“Jon go put some cologne on, or something, we have company for dinner.” Catelyn wrinkles her nose at the smokey scent hanging over him. 

 

“Another one of dad’s work friends? They all know I smoke, we take our breaks at the same time.” Jon hears a childish whine creeping into his voice, and Catelyn narrowly misses whacking him on the head with the wooden spoon she’s wielding. 

 

“Sansa’s bringing home a boy. Now go.” She pushes him towards the kitchen door, and he slinks through it, passing Arya on his way. She makes a face at him and he ruffles her hair until she squawks and pushes him off. He opts for changing his shirt entirely instead of trying to mask the odor, and it still clings to his hair and beard but Catelyn seems pleased as he comes back down to rejoin the family. 

 

“Where’d she meet this one?” Arya asks, pushing Bran into the living room. 

 

“At school dear, please mind your manners, all of _ you _ .” She gives Arya and Jon pointed looks, and Jon can’t even bring himself to be offended at the quip. He’s pushing twenty-six, working for his father down at the lumber company, and while he’s an adult in most senses of the word when he’s in the company of his half siblings all rational behavior flies out the window. Ned comes banging through the front door a moment later, Rickon at his heels, and claps Jon on the shoulder before scooping Arya into his arms. The Starks are quite the group, Jon knows, and even though he’s not Catelyn’s son she’d always treated him like one of the pack. He’s grateful for that, has heard stories from friends and coworkers about horrible step-parents. 

 

“What’s for dinner, darling?” Ned kisses Catelyn on the cheek before lumbering off into the kitchen and she follows him, presumably to smack his fingers away from whatever smells so good. Jon makes a space for Bran at the table, sitting between him and Arya. Rickon sits at Bran’s other side, locking Bran’s wheelchair as he settles. 

 

Jon hears the key slide in the lock before he actually hears Sansa through the open window, giggling at something her male companion is saying. “Mum, Dad I’m here!” She yells, wandering into the living room. A young man follows her in quietly, meets Jon’s eyes and smiles and Jon feels like he might vomit or pass out. The man is attractive, in a conventional way Jon guesses, he can say that. Auburn curls swell around his face and frame deep blue eyes, set in light crows feet. Jon needs a smoke, silently curses Catelyn for being so eager to please Sansa’s ridiculously attractive boyfriend.

 

“Hi! Hi, I’m Catelyn Stark, Sansa’s mother, it’s so nice to meet you, Robb, is it?” Catelyn comes rushing out of the kitchen, red hair undone from the messy bun she’d thrown it in to cook. Ned trails out after her, assessing, shakes Robb’s hand and kisses Sansa on the cheek. 

 

“Hello, it’s so nice to finally meet you Mrs. Stark, Sansa’s been talking about you all non stop.” Robb smiles, showing perfect canines, and Jon shoots Arya a look. She puckers up her lips to mime only what Jon can assume is kissing ass. 

 

“Robb, these are my siblings, Rickon, Bran, Arya and my older brother Jon.” Sansa blushes, motions to each of them and Jon gives a little wave, and Robb just smiles warmly at all of them. Before anyone can say anything else Catelyn is ushering them both into chairs, twittering about the food being almost ready before leaving Jon and the kids to entertain their guest. 

 

“So how did you two meet?” Arya gushes, batting her eyelashes at Sansa, who turns bright red. Jon kicks her in the shin, awkward at the angle he's sitting in, but she inhales sharply and shoots him a look. 

 

“We’re in the same Art History class, your sister sat next to me on the first day and we’ve been friends ever since.” Robb answers, blue eyes intense on Arya, and Jon feels like he’ll melt into a puddle on the floor.

 

“So you two are dating?” Bran decides to pipe up, and Sansa opens her mouth to answer as Ned and Catelyn come back in with eight plates and a giant bowl of spaghetti. Jon stays silent most of the meal, content to observe as his family asks Robb what he’s studying, how he likes college, the typical first date “get to know the boyfriend” questions. Jon’s been to these dinners before, usually as the date of a man he’d met through work or a girl he’d met at a bar. They were always awkward, no matter how many times you went to them, and Jon feels for Robb. He’s polite, answers Ned and Catelyn’s questions thoughtfully, and though he’s definitely closer to Jon in age than Sansa he seems to like her. Jon watches the way they never seem to look at each other with that “stupidly in love” gaze, the way Sansa doesn’t protest when Ned starts telling baby stories. It’s interesting. 

 

“So Jon, what do you do?” Robb’s fixated on him, beautiful lips quirking into a light smile and Jon feels as though he might drown in those deep blue eyes. 

 

“I work at the family company, Stark Lumber.” He gives a short answer, polite but not keen on keeping the attention on himself. Ned looks at him quizzically, and Jon silently wills him not to say anything else. Of course, his father was never one who knew how to shut up about his children. 

“He’s being modest, he practically runs production for me, I give it another ten years before Jon’s running the whole company!” Ned booms happily, bragging about how Jon even taught him to do payroll on the computer instead of by hand, and how it’s just so  _ much more efficient.  _ He turns bright red and Robb studies him as Ned continues.

 

He manages to struggle through the rest of dinner in silence, and despite his offers to help with the dishes he’s sent to entertain with Catelyn. He pretends to get a phone call, tells Sansa and Robb and Catelyn politely that he’d left Ghost with Sam for the weekend and it was probably something about that. Thankfully Sam was infamous in the Stark household as being terrible with Ghost, and as soon as he’s excused he rushes out front to have a smoke. 

 

“You mind if I join you?” Jon’s barely flicked the lighter to life before Robb’s soft voice sounds off from behind him, and Jon shrugs in reply, taking a long drag and scooting over to make room on the step beside him. 

 

“You want a smoke?” Jon offers, and Robb shakes his head, smiles anyways. 

 

“No thanks. Thought you might like some company, and to be honest I think your dad was about to give me the old fashioned ‘What are your intentions with my daughter’ talk.” Robb laughs, a beautiful low rumble, and Jon knows that conversation all too well too. 

 

“Well you came to the wrong place.” Jon tells him good naturedly, “You’re now going to get it from me.” 

 

“I really have no intentions of dating Sansa, she’s not really my type, you know? I set her up with a friend of mine, a guy named Theon, he’s in a band and girls go nuts for that kind of shit still, right? He really likes her and I think she likes him, she’s just not ready to bring him around.” Robb sort of lets the words pour out, and it’s the most Jon’s heard him say all night, and it’s cute. 

 

“She’s not your type?” 

 

“She’s kind of just the wrong gender entirely. Which is why we’re such good friends. Your parents seem to think we’re madly in love though, so I’m happy to keep that up until she decides to tell them we’re not.” Robb smiles again, leans back on his elbows on the cold concrete. Jon nods, pretends that he doesn’t care that Sansa’s ridiculously attractive friend is available and sweet and kind of having a real effect on him. 

 

“Your secret's safe with me and this cigarette.” Jon tells him, and he laughs again at that. Jon decides that it might be his life’s purpose to make this man laugh, it’s contagious and Jon wants to hear it over and over again. 

 

“Thanks, older brother Jon.” Robb claps him on the shoulder, blue eyes sparkling in the setting sun. 

 

“Anytime, faux boyfriend of my little sister.” Jon takes one last drag before stubbing the butt of the cigarette into the cool concrete step, wishes he had an excuse to stay outside with Robb. He doesn’t though, and stands slowly, dusts his hands off on his jeans and Robb mimics him. 

 

“Jon! Mum wants to know if you’re staying for desert!” Rickon pokes his head through the doorway, and Jon pretends to consider, rushes into the doorway to scoop him up and press a kiss to his head. 

 

“Tell her it depends on what she made.” Jon releases him and he scampers off, presumably to tell Catelyn. Jon does stay for desert, because now he’s really invested in Sansa and Robb’s fake relationship, and Arya seems pleased to say the least. In true Stark fashion they carry on well into the evening, Rickon finally being sent to bed, then Arya and Bran, until Robb and Sansa are left with Jon and the parents. He feels a bit out of place, like he shouldn’t be here, and he’s about to beg off to go home to Sam and Ghost when Catelyn interjects.

 

“Jon, are you staying the night with us tonight?” It’s less of a question as it is more of a silent plea, he has an idea she needs him to stick around for a reason. 

 

“I can, if you want.” He tells her, and she smiles at that. 

 

“Robb, if you plan on staying the night we do have rules, you’ll have to share with Jon, I know it’s quite a drive back to school for the both of you.”  _ Oh _ , Jon thinks  _ of course they drove here together.  _ Sansa’s living at home for the winter break, or as she’d so woefully told Jon “two weeks in hell.” Robb seems compliant of the rules, and of course he is because he’s goddamn perfect. Catelyn smiles across the room at him, and that’s why she’d wanted him to stay. He’s officially the cockblock. 

 

“I can drive you back in the morning if you like, Robb, if my boss will give me the morning off.” Jon elbows Ned amicably, who laughs loudly and tells him it’s fine. Robb thanks him, and Sansa helps Catelyn clear the desert plates before dragging Robb upstairs to Jon’s room to get him a change of clothes and show him where Jon’s bathroom is. 

 

 _Staying at my parents tonight. Sansa’s got a guy over from school. U ok with Ghost for the night?_ Jon sends Sam a text, knows he’ll be at home studying for the bar exam all night anyways. 

 

**Sure man. Gilly’s working the night shift again so I’ve got nothing to do.** Sam replies and Jon promises him they’ll talk tomorrow evening. He goes upstairs, hears the shower running faintly and slips into his room, grabs an old t-shirt and clean boxers before crossing the hall to the bathroom the kids share. He showers quickly, damp hair puddling water in his collarbones as he towels off and gets dressed, padding back to his room. Robb is standing awkwardly in the middle of the room and Sansa’s talking animatedly to him, smiling and showing him a text. 

 

“So when are you going to bring this Theon guy home to meet your mum?” Jon sits on the end of his bed, smiles at her as Sansa turns bright red and lightly punches Robb in the arm. 

 

“You told him!” She squeaks and Robb dodges her next smack. 

 

“Yeah! I felt bad lying to your  _ entire  _ family. Besides Jon saw right through it. I’m a terrible liar.” Robb’s accent is even thicker than it was earlier as he tries to stop laughing. Sansa glares at the two of them, and Jon tries to be serious, fails epically. 

 

“I suppose you want to see a picture of him?” She gives in, peeved and Jon takes her outstretched phone. They make a nice couple, Sansa’s tall and willowy and this guy seems to nearly match her in height. He’s blonde, and attractive in a way if you’re into the skinny rocker look. Sansa is.

“He’s not bad looking.” Jon finally tells her, passes the phone back and she snatches it from him. “I want to meet him, though.” 

 

“Thanks for the approval,  _ Dad _ .” She teases, giving Robb a quick hug before hugging Jon and practically skipping out the door. Robb watches her leave, practically drowning in one of Jon’s t-shirts. He’s broad, Jon allows himself to look, but shorter than Jon by a few inches and less muscular. He’s leaner and more toned, and Jon likes how he looks in his clothes. He probably shouldn't. 

 

“I can take the floor if you want.” Robb tells him then, suddenly snapping Jon out of his hazy appreciation of Robb’s collarbones. 

 

“No, you’re the guest, besides I don’t mind sleeping on the floor for the night.” Jon tells him, moves to grab one of the blankets and Robb just looks at him. 

 

“We could share if you’re okay with that. I don’t move around at all.” Robb offers, voice barely above a whisper, and Jon knows this is a  _ bad _ idea, but he doesn’t care. 

 

“Sure, it’s a queen bed anyways, plenty of room for two people. I’ll get you an extra pillow” He tosses the blanket back to it’s resting place, peels back the comforter and slinks back out into the hallway, grabbing a pillow and a sheet from the closet. He shuts out the light in his room as he comes back, carefully picking his way back to the bed. The lamp is still on at the bedside, casting a soft glow over the room. Robb looks beautiful in the dim light, and suddenly Jon thinks this was a very bad idea. Jon crawls into bed, careful not to touch Robb, lies flat on his back and tries not to be so stiff. They lie in silence for a while, long enough that Jon thinks Robb’s fallen asleep. 

 

“What made you want to work for your dad?” Robb asks, Jon turns to look at him lying on his side, propped up on his elbow. 

 

“I worked for him as a kid in high school, going on deliveries and unloading shipments and what not, and when I graduated I was working all the shit shifts. Didn’t really want to go to college, and my father always said I had a knack for it, and so it just stuck.” Jon can’t remember  _ not  _ working at the lumber company. He enjoys it, probably more than it’s acceptable to enjoy work, and he makes good money. “What do you do for work?” 

 

“I’m a museum tour guide, actually. Currently working on becoming a curator. I usually lead the weekend tours and early mornings, but I’ve got a few days off because of school.” Robb tells him, and Jon suddenly wants to go on a guided museum tour. 

 

“Do you live on campus, then?” Jon can tell he’s not from England, his accent is definitely Scottish, and if he’s Sansa’s age there’s no way he’s passing up student housing. 

 

“No. I’m in my final year, Theon and I rent a flat a ways away from campus. It’s between here and the university, maybe thirty minutes either way with traffic.” Robb yawns, blinking slowly and Jon wants to kiss him then. He barely knows the man, knows that would be a  _ terrible _ idea, wants to do it anyways. He opts for turning over onto his back, resting his arm underneath his head. 

 

“So you have a dog?” Robb says after a moment, and Jon can work with that. 

 

“Yeah, Ghost. I left him alone with my roommate for a few days. Sam is notoriously shitty at keeping him busy so my flat will probably be destroyed when I get back to it.” Jon pauses, remembering the last time Sam and Ghost were left alone for more than twenty four hours. There’d been a rainstorm, to make matters worse, and he’d come home to his room completely thrashed. Robb laughs a little at that, probably picturing it, and Jon laughs too, rolls over to turn off the lamp. It’s suddenly dark and Jon feels strangely intimate, sharing a bed with Robb. 

 

“Goodnight, Jon.” He says sleepily, hand finding Jon’s in the dark. He gives it a quick squeeze and Jon’s heart jumps a little, and he exhales, squeezing Robb’s fingers back before trailing his hand away. 

 

“Goodnight Robb.” Jon replies, staring at the ceiling. He tries not to think about the way Robb looks in his clothes, his soft smile and icy blue eyes and his perfect curls. Jon doesn’t need that complication in his life. Robb sniffs beside him, warm and soft and Jon feels like he’s falling head first off a cliff. He’s fucked, and not for the first time that night he notes that it really was a bad idea to share a bed with Robb. 

  
  


He wakes up the next morning groggy before his alarm, reaches for his phone to switch it off and feels something pressing into his chest. Jon inhales a mouthful of hair and nearly chokes, startles himself into full consciousness. He manages to turn his phone off with his free arm, the other trapped underneath Robb’s shoulder. He’s laying with his back against Jon’s chest, his head perfectly slotted under Jon’s chin. He panics for a moment, considers pushing himself out from underneath Robb and rolling over, but he’s warm and Jon hasn’t spooned anyone in a while, and he  _ likes it.  _ He pulls the comforter back over his shoulders, covering Robb too, and slings his free arm back over Robb’s midsection, loosely holding him. He doesn’t know how fast he falls back asleep with Robb in his arms but it must be quick. 

 

“Hey.” Robb’s voice, thick with sleep rouses him out of the dream he’s having. Robb’s rolled over, still trapped in his arms, head on his chest. Jon unconsciously tightens his grip, pretends to not to notice the way Robb melts into it and yawns, blinking at the sunlight piercing through the blinds. 

 

“Hey, how’s you sleep?” Jon mumbles, running his hand across the dip between Robb’s shoulder blades. 

 

“Good, you?” He curls his hand into Jon’s shirt, and Jon wants to wake up to this every day for the rest of his life. He’s in too deep to keep denying that he likes Robb now, so he lets the feeling sweep him away like a river current. 

 

“Better than I have in a while.” He stretches, joints popping. Jon drags his arm out from underneath Robb’s shoulders, yawns again and swings his legs over the side of the bed. “I’ll be right back.” He pads to the bathroom, doesn’t know why he tells Robb he’ll be back. Robb probably doesn’t care, probably just wants to go back to his flat and fall asleep in his own bed. Jon decides this is the best morning after he’s ever had in the Stark household. God bless Sansa for bringing home such a beautiful man. He makes a mental note to buy her the most expensive Starbucks drink he can later. Jon goes back into his room, Robb’s hair messily framing his face like a halo. Jon wants to crawl up his body and kiss every inch of it, starting with his perfect mouth. He lays down again instead, kicking back under the covers. He’s barely settled before Robb is back at his side, curled against him like a pup. He drapes his arm over Jon’s stomach, smiles up at him and Jon fights the urge to card his fingers through his hair. He smiles back though, heartbeat drumming hot in his ears. 

 

“Do you mind if I borrow your shirt? I’ll give to Sansa when I see her next.” Robb asks, moving to sit upright next to him. Jon sits up too, hair sticking up ridiculously. 

 

“Not at all, I hardly wear it anyways.” He’s lying, it’s one of his favorite shirts. Robb looks happy, and considers even telling him he can keep it if he keeps smiling like that. They just look at each other for a moment, silently assessing, and Jon feels like the room’s closing in on him, so he mumbles something about seeing if Catelyn needs him to help her with getting Bran up, pulls on his jeans from last night and all but runs out of his own room. 

 

He hates the pit that’s forming in his stomach, starts to think the universe must really have it out for him and silently sends up a curse to whatever malevolent God who’d sent Robb home with Sansa. He fumbles around for his pack of cigarettes, and Catelyn would scold him for smoking so early in the morning but the house is quiet, and he figures he can get away with it. He’ll face her wrath later. 

 

“You’re up early. Jonesing for a smoke at 6am?” Sansa appears at the sliding door leading out to the back porch, sticking her tongue out at him. He jumps a little at her sneaking up behind him, and silently pulls out a chair for her. 

 

“Figured I’d sneak one in before your mum wakes up and tells me it’s impolite to smoke while your boyfriend is over.” Jon winks at her, holds out his pack and she takes a cigarette, allows Jon to light it for her. He doesn’t remember the last time the two of them sat and did this, must’ve been Arya’s sixteenth birthday. Nearly a year ago, now. 

 

“He’s single, you know.” She pauses to inhale, leans back against the cool metal chair and closes her eyes. Sansa isn’t a smoker, really only does it when Jon’s home and they can both sneak off Catelyn’s radar. “I think he might like you, too. You should take him out sometime.” 

 

“Oh?” It all clicks then. She’s planned this, sneaky brat, and Jon really loves her, loves her and her penchant for playing cupid. 

 

“What? He set me up with Theon, and I was showing him pictures of everyone, you know- and he seemed to think you were cute and he’s a nice guy, Jon. You deserve to be with someone nice. Besides, when’s the last time you went on a real date?” 

 

“Last week, for your information.” Jon protests, leaves out that he was the third wheel with Gilly and Sam, they’d seen a movie and Sam was his best friend, and it wasn’t really awkward. Gilly practically lived with them anyways, and Jon didn’t mind going out with them. 

 

“Sam and Gilly don’t count. They’re dating each other, you fucking moron. Besides, you haven’t  _ really  _ dated since Dany, and that was almost two years ago!” Sansa flicks the ash off the end of her cigarette, punching his arm lightly. Jon sighs, there’s no point in arguing with her when she’s so blatantly correct. 

 

“I’ll ask him for his number when I take him home, will that make you happy?” Jon pretends to be put out by her insistence, and she smiles widely at him. 

 

“Very much so.” 

 

Jon ruffles her hair until it’s sticking straight up, mirroring his and she slaps at his hand, laughing. “So tell me about this Theon character, yeah?” 

 

Sansa starts to gush about how talented he is, and how Robb had introduced them at one of Theon’s shows, and he plays guitar and  _ sings,  _ and he’s cute and smart and always wakes her up with coffee and french toast when she spends the night at his place. Jon listens, nodding in all the right places and tries to keep his mind from wandering off, drags at his cigarette until it’s burning the tips of his fingers. Jon can hear Arya thundering down the stairs, quickly grinds out the tiny stub of cigarette he’s left holding and Sansa follows suit, growing quiet as Arya comes rushing out to sit with them. Jon’s missed his sisters, ever since Sansa went off to college and Arya started growing up, he feels as though he hardly sees them. They’re both young women now, beautiful like their mother and Jon still feels strangely protective of them both. 

 

“You guys fucking stink. Mum’s gonna kill you, Sansa!” Arya singsongs, straddles the chair across from them and Jon waves her off. 

 

“Watch your mouth, Arya! Dad would have a heart attack if he heard his little girl talking like that.” Sansa ribs her back, and Arya wrinkles her nose. She’s nearly seventeen and thinks she’s grown, and yet she’s still the little girl in pigtails who used to beg Jon to play pirates with her.

 

Jon can hear Ned in the living room, motions for Sansa to go sneak in through the front door and she scurries off. He goes back inside and successfully distracts Ned while Sansa sneaks upstairs behind him. It reminds him of high school, when Bran or Arya would get sent to bed without dinner and Sansa would sneak down to get them a sandwich, and Jon would have to distract their parents. Something about being back in their childhood home, all under one roof makes Jon miss their shenanigans. Robb comes downstairs with Sansa, clutching his phone and still wearing Jon’s t-shirt. Sansa tosses Jon his cell phone, which he’d left upstairs in his hurry. 

 

“You ready, Jon?” Robb asks, nodding politely to Ned who just drinks his coffee and stares. 

 

“Yeah, Dad, I’ll see you at work later?” Jon pulls on his shoes before fishing his keys out of his pocket where they’d been poking into his thigh. 

 

“What time can we expect you? I need you out on a delivery today. New driver.” Ned says. Jon tells him he’ll be back before lunch, and waves goodbye to Sansa and Arya before grabbing his coat off the rack by the door. He’ll probably be back for dinner again tonight, depending on how long the delivery takes. Robb follows Jon out onto the front step, hands shoved into his pockets in the cold air. Jon motions to the green pickup in the driveway, fits his key into the door and unlocks it. Robb climbs up into the cab next to him, locks his seatbelt and doesn’t say anything until Jon’s pulled onto the main road. 

 

“You want directions?” Robb asks him at a stoplight, and it would probably be in his best interest to say yes. 

 

“Sure, unless you want to tag along with me to work all day.” Jon laughs, unlocks his phone and hands it to Robb, who pulls up maps and plugs in the address. 

 

“That doesn’t sound half bad, actually.” Robb says then, hands Jon his phone back. Jon lets his hand linger underneath Robb’s for a moment before pulling it back and drumming his hands on the steering wheel. 

 

“Maybe next time you come over for family dinner Ned will make you go to work with us the next day.” 

 

“That wouldn’t surprise me, your father successfully gave me “the talk” about Sansa so I’m sure he now sees me in a whole different light.” Jon laughs at that, trying to imagine his dad attempting to strike the fear of God into Robb. 

 

“I’m sorry I missed that, honestly.” They fall silent for a moment as the gps directs Jon, and all too soon he’s pulling up to the address Robb had given him. 

 

“Thank you again for the ride home, and for so graciously sharing your bed last night. And your shirt.” Robb blushes as he fiddles with the door handle. Jon reaches across him, yanks on it just right- his truck is on its last shitty leg- and the door swings open. 

 

“No problem, you look better in my clothes than I do.” Jon says without thinking, and Robb smiles at that. 

 

“Do you want to come in for a minute? I can make you a cup of coffee.” 

 

“Yes.” Jon pulls the keys out of the ignition and opens his own door, slamming it behind him. Robb digs his keys out, fitting them into the rusted little gate and crosses down the first hallway. Jon can hear music coming from the flat before Robb stops at the door, smiles apologetically and fits the key in before slamming his shoulder into the door to jimmy it open. 

 

“The door likes to stick.” He explains, and Jon follows him inside. It’s nice, definitely not anything high end but Jon supposes between Robb’s salary and Theon’s money from playing gigs this is what they could afford. 

 

“You have a nice view!” Jon could cross from the front door to the patio in two strides, if he wanted, opts for wandering over and looking out on the grassy expanse that falls out after the little patio. Robb bangs on the closed door right off the kitchen, and the loud twanging of the guitar stops abruptly. 

 

“Hey Robb!” A voice yells before the door swings open, the man Jon assumes is Theon bounding out. A black lab is at his heels, and upon seeing Jon starts barking. 

 

“Thor! Shut up, Jesus Christ, damn dog.” Theon pats him until he decides Jon is safe enough to sniff. Jon lets him nose between his legs, assumingly smelling Ghost on his jeans. Theon looks between him and Robb for a moment quizzically before extending his hand and smiling widely at Jon. “Hey man, I’m Theon, Robb’s roommate.”

 

“Hey, I’m Jon, Sansa’s older brother.” Theon turns opaque at that for a moment before dropping Jon’s hand and giving Robb a look.

“Huh. Can’t say I see the resemblance but it’s good to meet you.” Theon’s grey eyes are fixed on his mop of black hair, intense. 

 

“I’m her half brother.” Jon says, crouching to scratching Thor behind the ears. He sighs contently before galloping off to greet Robb. 

 

“Oh.” 

 

“Theon you want coffee?” Robb offers suddenly, holding up a mug. He nods, goes back into his room and Robb smiles at Jon. “He probably thinks I brought you over to give him a hard time about Sansa. He’s usually much nicer.” 

 

“No worries. I didn’t know you had a dog.” Thor pants happily at Robb’s feet, grinning up at Jon.

 

“Yeah, he was a gift from my mum a few years ago. When I moved to Glasgow for school she went and picked him out. Theon’s a few years older so when we met he kept Thor at his flat until we got a place together.” Robb shrugs. “Student housing and all that.” Thor rolls onto his back upon hearing his name, thumping his tail against the linoleum. Robb leans to scratch him and Thor wiggles around on the floor like he can’t get enough of it. 

 

“He seems friendly. He’d probably love Ghost.” Jon doesn’t mention that Ghost is a full head taller than Thor, and nearly twice as heavy. Robb stands then, dusts the black fur off his jeans and pours Jon a mug of coffee. 

 

“They should meet sometime.” Robb hands him the cup before opening the small excuse for a fridge and digging around in it to produce a carton of half and half. As if he can sense it’s ready, Theon comes barreling back out of his room, sneaks into the kitchen behind Robb and grabs the mug out of his hands, giving him a sloppy kiss on the temple. 

 

“Thanks for the coffee, Robb you’re aces. Jon, it’s been a dream, I assume you’ll be back within the week so until then.” Theon grins wolfishly at him, doffing an imaginary cap before sauntering off into his room for the second time. 

 

Jon gulps down the hot coffee, foregoing the half and half on the counter and ignoring the way it burns down his throat like wildfire. Robb watches him, mouth quirking into a quick smile before he glances down at Thor and takes a swig from his own mug. 

 

“I probably should get going.” Jon says, his taste buds all but burned off. He kneels down to scratch Thor behind the ears and the dog presses hard against his thigh. 

 

“Thanks again for the ride, it was very kind of you.” Robb walks the three feet with him to the door, fingers dancing on the knob like he’s afraid to open it. 

 

“Anytime.” Jon says, honest. “We should exchange numbers, you know, just so you can forewarn me next time I’ll be acting as buffer for you and Sansa.” The words spill out of his mouth in a rush. 

 

“I’d like that.” Robb says simply, pulling his phone from his pocket. He sets it to contacts and hands it to Jon. He keys his number in and hands the phone back to Robb, who sets it on the counter and pulls the door open for him. Thor immediately scrabbles up from the floor, nearly jumping out into the hallway before Robb grabs his collar. Jon gives him a little wave, wants to hug him but instead strides out the door.

 

He drives to work in silence, thoughts loud and insistent in his head. He turns up his phone to full volume,  _ just in case _ before heading into the warehouse. The day drags, and the delivery goes without a hiccup- he was sort of hoping for one, not that he’d admit it out loud- and Jon tries to keep from checking his phone every twenty seconds. Ned invites him over for dinner again when they’re all leaving and Jon begs off, tells him he’d promised Sam he’d bring home takeout. He had promised nothing of the sort, but he’d missed Sam and Gilly and Ghost. They’re his second family, really, and he wants to go home to them. He’s taking the stairs to his flat two at a time and he’s barely rounding the staircase when Ghost starts howling, nails scrabbling against the door. Sam greets him, Ghost wiggling between his legs and Jon lets him jump up, pressing his paws on his shoulders. 

 

“You would think I’ve been gone for years!” Jon laughs, Ghost slobbering all over his beard. He finally pushes him off, clapping Sam on the shoulder and shutting the door behind the three of them. 

 

“I’m not as fun as you are, I guess. How’s your family holding up?” Sam grins amicably at him, patting Ghost as he whines for Jon’s attention. He manages to flop onto the worn out brown couch in the living room before Ghost leaps into his arms and settles happily. He has the mentality of a lapdog and one day he was going to break Jon’s femur. 

 

“They’re all well, Sansa’s friend spent the night.” Jon’s phone buzzes as if to punctuate his sentence. 

 

Sam looks pointedly at him, doesn’t stop giving him the Look until Jon pulls his phone from his pocket and glances at it. “Is that the friend?” 

 

It’s a number Jon doesn’t recognize, and he unlocks his phone as Ghost nuzzles into him, angry that the attention is now directed away from him. “Yeah, seems to be.” He tries to keep the excitement out of his voice. He’s a grown man. 

 

“What’s it say?” 

 

“Can’t fucking read it proper because Ghost is really in the way.” Jon spits fur out of his mouth, and Ghost throws his shoulder blade deep into Jon’s sternum. “Fucking Christ.” He gently prods at the dog until he growls lowly, stalks off to lay on the other side of the couch. 

 

**Hey Jon, it’s Robb. Sansa’s friend. :)** Jon narrates and Sam snickers a little. 

 

“So is he cute?” 

 

“Yeah, and he’s not dating my little sister so that’s a plus.” Jon says, typing back a response. 

 

_ Hey. How’s it going.  _ He figures that’s casual enough, doesn’t have  _ let me fuck you until you can’t walk right  _ energy stamped across it. It’s nonchalant and Jon decides it's fine. 

 

“So I’m assuming you were the un-needed cockblock last night, eh?” 

 

“I was. He slept in my room, his name is Robb, by the way.” 

 

“How’d that go for you.” Jon glares at him, no real heat behind it, and it’s been a while since he’s slept with anyone-or even gone on a date- and Sam likes to tease when he gets the chance. “So are you going to ask him on a date?” Jon’s phone sounds off again, twice, and he tries to tamp down the blush that’s spreading down his face into his neck. 

 

“Yeah, probably I mean we  _ just  _ met last night.” 

 

“Yet you’ve already slept in the same bed, presumably cuddled up with one another, asking him out doesn’t feel like it’s the craziest thing you could do.” 

 

“Aren’t you supposed to have dinner ready for me?” Jon changes the subject, glancing at his phone. Robb’s texted him twice. 

 

“Gilly’s bringing home chinese. Ask Robb out, Jon. And yes she got you chow mein.” Sam flops  down on the couch between Jon and Ghost, grabbing the remote from the coffee table before kicking his feet up and flicking through channels. He settles on one of the Lord of the Rings movies, Jon doesn’t know which one. He’s clicking his phone on and off again, contemplating on checking the texts. Ghost huffs and all but throws his paws onto Sam’s legs, stretching out and howling obnoxiously.

 

“Did you feed him yet today?” Jon can tell it’s one of his  _ feed me _ screams, Ghost tended to be more vocal than any animal living or dead Jon had ever encountered. Gilly often joked that Ghost was inhabited by the spirit of a man living his second life in the wolfdog, and Jon had started to lean into the theory. 

 

“Yes, right before you got home. He’s been talking ever since you left.” Sam gently cuffs Ghost behind the ears, and he responds with a low chuff and bites one of Sam’s fingers. 

 

“Shut up, Ghost.” Jon makes sure his tone isn’t gruff, he isn’t entirely sure the dog could understand english but he sure did understand voice cadence. He finally caves and checks the texts. 

 

**Going good, Theon’s out to dinner with Sansa and I’m watching Political Animals re-runs. U?**

 

**How’s Ghost?**

 

Jon gets a little fuzzy feeling deep in his stomach at the thought that Robb listened, that he remembered Ghost’s name and Jon takes the opportunity to snap a picture of Ghost, who is currently mauling Sam’s right hand, and sends it. 

 

_ He’s absolutely fantastic. Very happy that Sam’s fingers taste so good.  _ Ghost gleefully slobbers all over Sam’s pullover, paws wrapped around his forearm. 

 

_ Watching Lord of the Rings with Sam, his fiancé is bringing home dinner. Never heard of Political Animals. What’s it about?  _

 

He leaves his phone on the couch and wanders into his room, flopping facedown onto the comforter. Ghost jumps straight down onto his back, splayed out licking his neck. He can smell the smoke on his own clothes, with the way his neck is tucked into his chest, and he finally pushes Ghost off him and rolls over. Jon showers quickly, looks in the mirror and contemplates shaving, his beard is just hinting at too long. He’s twirling the razor in between his fingers when Gilly announces her presence, and the smell of food smacks him across the face. Jon decides he’ll shave tomorrow and pulls on sweats and an old Van Halen shirt before jogging out to eat. 

 

“Three texts.” Sam tells him, pulling out a chair at the dining table for Gilly and pressing a kiss to her cheek. She divides up the containers, ruffling Jon’s hair in greeting before sitting down and smiling warmly at the two of them. 

 

“Texts from whom? Jon’s got himself a girlfriend?” Gilly passes him a fork and bites into her own Bok Choy. Jon scoops up a mouthful of chow mein to avoid further questioning, face burning red. 

 

“Sansa’s friend from college. Turns out he’s gay and thinks Jon’s cute so she set them up.” Gilly awws, the way girls do when they see a cute puppy or baby and Jon thumps Sam on the arm.

 

“Fuck right off.” He mutters and Sam awws too, just to piss him off. “His name is Robb and I let him borrow my favorite shirt, and he made me coffee this morning after I dropped him off at home. He’s so goddamn polite, thanked me three times for a ride and he lives like five miles from Ned and Catelyn’s.” Jon gives her the rundown and she seems sated, nods wisely before letting out a little squeal. 

 

“That’s fucking adorable! When are you going to go out again?” Jon wishes he’d ate at his parents. 

 

“Not a clue. Gotta text him back first.” His chow mein is starting to get cold in the middle, and he scarfs down a few more bites before clearing the empty containers. Gilly digs through her pockets and hands him a fortune cookie with a soft smile. 

 

“Got you an extra one.” She produces the other cookie with a flourish and Jon thanks her. He likes the fortunes inside, just cryptic enough to always come true. Sam helps him clean up, scooping out the rest of his Kung Pao chicken into Ghost’s food dish and he practically inhales it, thumping his tail against the floor in unspoken approval. Jon settles back on the couch, flips until he hits the Price is Right and turns it up as Gilly and Sam sneak off to their bedroom. He hears the shower turn on a beat later, and checks his texts. 

 

**When you mentioned him earlier you left out that he’s a fucking unit. Haha**

 

**He’s beautiful though and seems very keen on your friend.**

 

**The show's about the president's family, and it focuses on his son who’s a drug addicted bisexual mess. It’s very good. If you’re up for it we could watch it together sometime. It’s one of my favourites.**

 

_ Well I don’t have to work tomorrow, if you’d like to come over. I’m sure Sam and Gilly would like to meet you. Ghost too.  _

 

_ Surprisingly enough he’s not Sam’s biggest fan. They usually can’t cohabitate for more than forty eight hours without a middle man to step in and keep the peace.  _

 

Jon knows it’s bold, to just invite Robb over so soon, but it feels right, in his gut. He watches the Price is Right until the channel starts to play infomercials, his phone as silent as a mausoleum. He feels himself nodding off sitting up, and drags himself to his room, Ghost already spread across the bed. Jon has to really shove him to make room, and Ghost voices his disapproval loudly before curling into a ball at Jon’s waist. He plays Candy Crush until he runs out of lives, and puts his phone on the nightstand before rolling over and trying not to think about Robb not texting him back. 

 

Not thinking about Robb proves to be extremely difficult, and Jon wakes up at five the next morning to Ghost nearly screaming at the door. The shrill squawking noise proves to be an extremely effective alarm and Jon fumbles for his shoes and coat, grabbing his phone as he tramps to the front door. He doesn’t bother to try and find Ghost’s choke chain, just opens the front door and lets him tear hells bells down the concrete stairwell to the small fenced in yard at the front of his complex. Jon sits on the steps and fumbles for a cigarette as Ghost sniffs around the yard, staining his white coat with grass. Jon lights up and contemplates murdering him, decides he’ll just have to towel him off when they get back inside. He absently checks his phone, still groggy, and Robb had texted him two hours ago. Jon doesn’t even want to know what he’s up to that early, checks anyway.

 

**I’m free all day. Let me know a time and place and I’ll be there!**

 

_ How does 11 sound?  _ Jon types in his address too, presses send and almost instantaneously his phone buzzes. 

 

**I’ll see you at 11, then. :)**

 

Jon’s really awake now, regretting not shaving because he’s starting to look like a bit of a mountain man. He stubs the cigarette out halfway, whistles low for Ghost who is nose deep in a badger hole at the fence. He gallops back up the stairs, panting and licks Jon’s hand as he lets them both back inside. Jon scuffles back to his room, sets an alarm for eight and promptly falls back into bed, Ghost crawling up to lay beside him, happily slobbering across his face. He lays there for a while, restless, until finally giving up on going back to bed and stalking out into the kitchen to make himself a cup of coffee. Sam’s making bacon, and as he sits at the little stools they have set up at the island he slides over a cup of coffee, already filled with creamer. 

 

“Did Ghost wake you?” Jon takes the coffee and sips at it, voice gravelly, and Sam pokes at the bacon with a fork. 

 

“Nah, you going back to bed did though.” He sets the fork down, letting the bacon fry in the pan and drinks his own coffee. 

 

“Any big plans today?” 

 

“No.” 

 

“Robb’s going to come by. You ok with that?” Sam lights up at the words, smiling around the mug in his hands. 

 

Sam goes back to the bacon, picking it out of the pan on the fork. “Yeah man, Gilly’s gonna be so fucking happy.” He cracks three eggs into the other pan, setting the lid on. “You ok with over easy?” 

 

“Sure.” Jon says, gets up to grab the plates from the cabinet. Sam divides up the eggs, scooping one into Ghost’s dish with a piece of bacon. Ghost scrabbles across the title and gingerly wolfs it down, not stopping to chew. 

 

“One day he’s going to choke and none of us are going to know how to save him.” Sam says, passing him a fork and sitting at the bar next to him.

They eat in contented silence, Jon mopping up the yolk with his bacon until the plate is nearly clean. Jon offers to clean up, the dishes piling haphazardly in the small sink and Sam keeps him company, pouring out another few cups of coffee for them both. They talk aimlessly about the lumber company, Sam’s job at the library that he loathes, and  _ thank God  _ his bar exam is next month, he’s well on his way to being sworn in as an attorney. Jon’s proud of him, they’d known each other since they were in high school and Sam was always smart, quick to answer and Jon always told him he’d be wealthy for it one day. He was right. He and Gilly were getting married in August too, nearly six months away but Jon knew Sam was already planning. So he was proud. 

 

“Morning boys,” Gilly shuffles out into the living room, kissing Jon on the cheek and turning to press one on Sam’s face as well. 

 

“You want coffee baby?” She nods at Sam’s question and takes his empty seat next to Jon at the counter, resting her chin on her hands. 

 

“Did Ghost get breakfast or has he developed a strong penchant for the taste of metal.” Gilly directs their attention to the dog, who is licking the sides of his bowl like a dying man looking for water. 

 

“Probably both.” Jon supplies, downing his coffee and rinsing the mug in the sink. “Gonna take him for a lap around the block, I’ll be back.” He digs through the tiny closet next to the door until he finds Ghost’s chain and leash, and upon hearing the metal clink he’s at the door whining in seconds, bacon grease forgone. Jon nearly gets dragged off his feet as Ghost tastes freedom for the second time that morning, pulling down the stairs and panting excitedly. Jon finally gets him to slow, enough to put a hand in his pocket and stroll around the block. A little girl runs up and asks to pet him and Ghost nuzzles her in search of treats. She giggles happily as his snout roots through her jacket of its own accord. Jon makes small talk with her mum, finally pulling Ghost down the street. He tries not to think about doing this with Robb, holding his hand and Ghost’s leash clamped in the other. It would be nice though, allows himself to wax poetic about domestic bliss with Robb until they round the corner to the flat again. He all but drags the bulk of Ghost up the stairs, nearly sweating as they both clamor back inside. 

 

“Robb’s coming over, I hear?” Gilly’s hair is wet from the shower, apparently last night’s was void of anything clean. Jon hates how he flushes, embarrassed, and she punches him on the bicep lovingly.

 

“Yeah, soon, actually.” It’s a quarter to eleven now, and Jon figures he should change. Gilly shoves him off towards his room, happily announcing that he stinks, and he goes, changing into clean jeans and a t-shirt he digs out of a drawer. He texts Robb his flat number, hopping into a pair of socks, and he’s barely ran a brush through his tangled mess of curls when a shy knock sounds on the door. Ghost yips, weaving through Jon’s legs as he goes to get the door. He’s standing awkwardly, holding Ghost back with his foot and swings the door open. 

 

Robb smiles at him, amused. “Hey, Jon.” 

 

“Hi Robb, come on in, don’t mind the beast to my left he’s just excited.” Ghost is practically smushed between the door and Jon’s thigh, head poking out. 

 

“This the the infamous beast, I assume?” Robb immediately crouches to let Ghost asses him, and the dog doesn’t miss a beat, tail wagging rapidly as Robb pets him.  _ Even Ghost loves him, Jesus Christ. _ He’s convinced if Ghost was able to speak he’d be screaming out of pure joy. Robb straightens, still wearing Jon’s shirt and a pair of black dickies, and it’s casual and Jon thinks in that moment Robb is the hottest thing he’s ever seen. He pulls him into a quick hug, and Robb squeezes an arm around his waist before pulling back as quick as Jon does. Gilly and Sam both leap up from where they’re cuddling on the couch, Sam grinning from ear to ear. 

 

“Hey man I’m Sam, Jon’s best friend. I like your shirt!” Sam claps him on the shoulder, Ghost still pressed against Robb’s shins. Gilly waves and introduces herself too, warm. 

 

“Hey, it’s great to meet you both! And thank you, it’s actually Jon’s, he let me borrow it and I figured I’d wear it again because it’s so comfortable.” Robb explains, smiling at Jon, who’s heart turns to putty.

 

“You want a water or anything mate?” Sam offers, and Robb politely declines. 

 

“We’ve heard so much about you, Jon wouldn’t shut up last night when he got home. You made quite an impression.” Gilly says, and Jon feels like he’s sixteen again bringing home a friend for his mom to meet. He glares at her, and tells Robb there’s a TV in his room if he wants to watch there. Robb blushes, dutifully follows Jon into his room, Ghost at his hip. 

 

“Sorry about them, they don’t really meet new people often.” Jon explains teasingly, pulls out his office chair and rolls it next to the bed. Robb stands with his hands shoved in his pockets, Ghost prancing circles around him,  _ pet me pet me pet me!  _ “You can sit on the bed if you want!” Jon offers suddenly, and God he’s fucking terrible at this. 

 

“No need to be sorry. I thought it was sweet.” Robb sits tentatively on the edge of the bed, and Jon settles into the chair next to him, hands him the remote. Robb cues up the show, turns on the first episode and Jon tries to pay attention, but Robb’s captivating, more than the tv show. Jon likes to watch the way he watches the screen, eyes following each character, gasping quietly even though he’s probably seen the episode a million times. He relaxes as they’re well into the next episode, leaning back with his elbows on the bed, propping himself up. Jon kicks his feet up onto the bed, right by Robb’s hip, Ghost curled up near the pillow. Jon loses himself in the show, and it’s actually quite good, if he’s being completely honest with himself. They manage to get to the third episode when Jon starts to get hungry, mouth dry, and Robb seems to sense it. 

 

“Wanna take a break?” He asks, pausing the episode. 

 

Jon stretches, his foot poking into Robb’s legs, and he doesn’t even flinch. “Yeah, you hungry? I can find us something to eat if you like.” 

 

“That sounds good.” Robb pats his shin as he climbs off the bed, pulling his arms over his head. Jon can see just a sliver of skin poking between his pants and shirt, and it’s ridiculously hot, and Jon hates himself for even thinking that. He leads the way to the kitchen and Robb settles onto one of the stools as he rummages around in the freezer. 

 

He finally finds a frozen pizza, pulling it out and holds it up like it’s a major award. “Supreme ok?” 

 

“That’s my favorite kind actually.” Robb tells him excitedly, and Jon lets the oven preheat before shoving the pizza in. He gets Robb a glass of water, leaning on the counter. “Ghost is much more hospitable than Thor was to you, I apologize.” Robb swallows, his adam’s apple bobbing prominently all of a sudden. Jon wants to bite it until he breaks a tooth. 

 

“He just took to you very quickly, is all. He’s surprisingly friendly for his size.” Ghost grumbles happily from where he’s laying his head on Robb’s thigh under the counter, eyes closing in bliss as Robb scratches behind his ears. Jon watches the two of them, and he’s never seen Ghost take to  _ anyone  _ like this before. He was a one person kind of animal. Robb’s staring at him as he pulls himself out of his thoughts, expression unreadable. The oven bellows as Robb opens his mouth to say something, and Jon quickly opens the door. It needs a few more minutes, so he resets the timer, turning and Robb is standing behind him, close. 

 

“Hi.” Jon says eloquently. 

 

“Hey.” Robb’s smile is soft like the first time he’d walked through the door of the Stark household, gentle and almost carrying a secretive air. 

 

He’s close enough that if Jon moved even a step forward their lips would brush, and they’re locked on each other. A stalemate of sorts, Jon muses. He decides he doesn’t like it, so he steps. Robb cranes up a little and that’s  _ so fucking cute _ , Jon thinks, pressing his mouth to Robb’s. Robb presses back, tentatively, and moves one hand to loop around Jon’s neck, pulling him down against him. Jon pulls back for a moment, tries not to smile as Robb  _ sighs  _ and Jon kisses him harder, tongue running over his bottom lip, soft. Robb’s pliant, and Jon drags him in closer, hands on his waist. Robb presses up, fingers carding into Jon’s curls and his mouth is warm, warm like the rest of him. Jon, impatient, tugs at the backs of his thighs and Robb half jumps, legs wrapped around his waist, and now Jon’s craning to kiss him. They pull away, Robb staring down at him, wrecked, and Jon laughs a little, kissing his lips lightly over and over until Robb deepens it again. Jon feels his back bump against the counter, Robb nearly whimpering under his teeth and tongue. He can hear the oven going off, blaring through the haze, and he doesn’t care, grips Robb’s thighs tighter and nips at his bottom lip. The kitchens starting to stink a little, like burnt pizza, and Robb reluctantly pulls away. 

 

“We’re gonna burn your flat down, Jon.” He’s breathing down on Jon’s face, hair mused. Jon doesn’t want to let him go yet, but he does, can’t have the place coming down around them in a fiery inferno. 

 

“Yeah, yeah.” Jon kisses him again, hurriedly, grabs the pizza out of the oven and it’s only lightly charred and he can live with that. He cuts them a few pieces, and Robb is running his hands over Jon’s shoulders, distracting. Jon doesn’t care that the pizza burns his fingers or the way Ghost lingers underneath them waiting for something to drop. Jon can’t believe he even makes it to his room, Robb trailing after him, hands wandering across the planes of his back. Jon carefully sets the slices down on the table, spins and grabs Robb again, kissing him hungrily like it’s the last time he’ll ever get to taste him. Robb moans, soft against his hair when Jon moves to bite his neck, walking them back towards the bed. They fall on it and Jon steadies himself above Robb, kissing and kissing. 

 

“You look so fucking good in my shirt, you know that?” Jon growls against his jaw, licks and bites at the skin there until it’s a blooming angry red. 

 

Robb giggles, snorting air through his nose, eyes like oceans gazing up at Jon. “Love wearing your shirt, smells like you.” He says soft, arches into Jon’s touch. They slow down a little, Jon marking a trail from his jaw to his neck, leaving little bites across his clavicle and throat. He finally stops, Ghost is starting to ruin the moment by whining and pawing at him. They both sit up, Jon hands him the pizza then and they’re both out of breath. Robb is a beautiful mess, hair sticking up and neck dotted red and purple from Jon’s mouth. Jon can’t stop staring at him, never wants to look away, wants this image to settle burned into his eyelids so it’s all he sees when he closed his eyes. 

 

“You’re so fucking beautiful.” Jon tells him, takes a bite of the pizza and it’s cold against his tongue but he doesn’t care, can’t bring himself to slodge out to the microwave and heat it up. So he eats it lukewarm, Robb stretched out on his bed next to him. 

 

“Says you.” Robb traces his jaw with a fingertip, chewing thoughtfully before tossing the rest of his slice to Ghost, who chomps happily and thumps his tail against the comforter. Jon takes a drink, slowly, he’s no longer hungry. Robb pulls him over, sits on his waist and presses a soft kiss to his mouth. “I like your beard.” He says into Jon’s mouth, and he’ll never shave again. Jon sighs happily, kisses Robb’s again, chasing the taste. 

 

“It’s getting long.” 

 

“I don’t mind.” 

 

Jon settles back against the headboard, Robb fitting into his arms perfectly. He’s warm and soft against Jon’s ribs, fingers splayed out across his belly, lightly scratching against the fabric of his shirt. He’s starting to doze off, the hum of the television and Robb’s head warm underneath his chin. 

 

He doesn’t know how long it takes him to doze off, but his neck is aching in a thousand different places when he finally wakes up, still nearly upright against the bed. the TV is off, Robb must’ve turned it off. He’s snoring lightly, fingers still crooked across Jon’s stomach. He’s groggy, Ghost at their feet, but he’s happy and warm. He scrunches down, holds Robb a little tighter and presses a kiss to his head, soft. 

  
  
  


Jon never thought the day would sneak up on him like this. After all, he’d planned, felt like he was ready to do his part-his small part. Sam was so excited, flipping through notecards, and Gilly was nervous. “I’m going to have to get my goddamn dress altered,  _ Jon.”  _ She’d whined to him, and he’d reassured her that she was barely showing signs of pregnancy, nobody would notice if her dress was a little bigger around the hips. He doesn’t know where along the way he’d become a dress expert of any sort, but it had seemed to reassure her enough. So he’s standing there at the end of the aisle, palms sweating, Sam beaming at his side. 

 

“You ready to really do this?” Robb was grinning up at him, with that smile Jon loved so much, cherished. 

 

“Been ready since the day you sat on the porch with me.” Jon tells him, smiling back, and the aisle feels empty without Ghost or Thor trying to edge between them for attention.

 

He can't believe they’re doing this, Sam’s ring glinting in the setting sun, Jon’s getting married. He’s overwhelmed, suddenly, the way Robb’s smiling at him, soft in the evening light, and he doesn’t even hear the minister fully, slips the ring on Robb’s slim, artist finger and Theon and Sansa are grinning up at him, happy. Robb kisses him then, and Jon kisses him back, drowning against his mouth. Ned and Catelyn has taken it well when Sansa had told them the news, they’d taken to him ever more than they’d taken to Robb. He’d spent more nights with the Starks than any sane person had before him. Ned had clapped Robb on the shoulder when Jon had told him he’d proposed, had jokingly said that he’d given him the wrong talk, hadn’t he? Robb had just blushed, glued to Jon’s hip and laughed. Arya had just told him she wasn’t wearing a dress, and could she please have a plus one? He’d just ruffled her hair and said of course, because it was Arya. 

 

They’d gotten a little flat near the museum, close enough to the lumber yard that Jon couldn’t even really call the drive a commute. Suprisingly Ghost and Thor cohabitated peacefully, Jon was now accustomed to coming home to a clean flat. Thor was Ghost’s foil it seemed. 

 

“Hey I’m home!” Jon had called, the dogs scrabbling across title to happily greet him. 

 

“Hi! You’re off early.” Robb comes barreling out of their room, pushing past the dogs to hug him. Jon inhales, hands running through his hair. 

 

“Perks of being the boss.” Jon tells him, kisses him softly. “Wanna go get dinner?” 

 

“Sounds good, let me just grab my coat.” Robb taps the dogs on their noses, disappearing into the bedroom again. He reappears, Jon’s favorite jacket pulled over his shoulders. 

 

“All these years and you still have to raid my closet, huh?” Jon teases, shuts the door behind them as the cool air hits them. 

 

“I like the way your clothes fit me.” Robb argues, kisses him on the temple as they get to Jon’s truck. Robb has perfected the never ending fight with the passenger side door, and Jon loves him. 

 

“Love you, Robb.” 

 

“Love you Jon.” Robb pulls his jacket tighter like it’s a blanket and he’s freezing, and Jon thinks maybe they shouldn’t go to dinner. He could make something, anything for a reason to stay in. He likes the way Robb looks in his clothes, even now, it’s a sight that he’ll never take for granted. 

  
  
  



End file.
